


Mine

by LozaMoza



Series: Moments [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Jealousy, One Shot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, because Geralt and Yennefer, but not unhealthy, even if they cant say it, they just love eachother ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LozaMoza/pseuds/LozaMoza
Summary: What happens if Geralt takes Coral up on her offer to check out what Yennefer is up to in Season of Storms?Angst Angst Angst and a little more Angst, that's what!! (With a happy ending, for once, from me)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Moments [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806943
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, if you read Season of Storms, you know, Coral is a major See You Next Tuesday... So yeah, she's nasty here too. 
> 
> Prompt from wildwildmercury. Thank you!!

**In Kerack, on the Coast**

The firelight from the numerous candles in the room danced off her vibrant red hair. She smiled, and the coppery tones twisted as she moved her head slightly. Her skin was smooth and light as cream, and her jade-green eyes danced with mischief.

“I see that piqued your interest, Geralt,” Lytta said laughing. “Don’t be surprised. You and Yennefer are quite a juicy bit of gossip, so of course the entire mage community knows. Yennefer and the Witcher. How deliciously strange. Would you like to see her new lover? Like to see her?”

Every piece of him screamed no.  _ No, don’t bring that hurt back. It’s done. You were wrong for each other. Leave it in the past you fucking fool! _

“Yes,” he said, barely above a whisper.

She bore her eyes into him, flashing callus and malicious, before immediately laughing in a silvery sound. “As you wish, Witcher Geralt…”

Lytta whispered a spell above the water and it began to ripple. A picture, at first distorted, slowly took shape. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.

She was there, Yennefer. Yen. She was on the balcony of a large home, facing away from him, overlooking rolling hills that appeared to be vineyards. The sun dappled across her curls, and they shined with almost a violet glow. _ Had they always done that? Had he never noticed? _ She was somewhere warm, and she wore a gauzy white off-the-shoulder dress. It was a looser fit, but the sunlight filtered through the material just so, and he could easily make out the body beneath it. His fingertips began to tingle at the touch-memory of her skin, her soft curves, and he had to swallow to choke back the longing that threatened to overtake him. He imagined walking up behind her, nesting his chin exactly where the slim column of her neck met the softness of the skin of her collarbone, and taking a deep breath as her perfume surrounded him.  _ She would grin at that _ . He would wrap his arms around her slim waist and pull her flush with him. Sometimes she would grab his hands, other times she would lift one arm up to gently hold onto the back of his neck. His favorite was when she would turn, facing him, and pull him to her lips for a long kiss. Sometimes that would be the end of it, other times they would make love right there, wherever right there happened to be. One never knew with Yennefer.

She turned slightly, reacting to a sound he couldn’t hear, and his heart stopped again. Her face was as beautiful as he remembered, moreso even. He still could not see her directly, but he saw the sheen of violet in her eyes, the half-moon shadows her long lashes left on her cheekbones, and her lips, slightly open. They were not smiling. He wanted to tilt her chin to him, to pepper her lips with soft kisses, which he knew was a surefire way to get her to grin or laugh softly. 

Just then a shadow fell over part of her and a man appeared. He was tall, dark hair and broad shoulders, wearing an expensive doublet, the type of doublet Geralt hated and would constantly fight Yennefer about. He came up behind her, his hands trailing on the sides of her hips, to pull her to him.

“Stop,” Geralt said as he turned away.

“Not interested in seeing what dear Yenna is getting up to? Of course, perhaps the getting up is going to be that jeweler beau of hers. She does look quite lovely in that dress, don’t you think?”

“Enough, Lytta. End it.” His hands gripped the sides of the basin. 

“Oh my….hmmm, yes, perhaps it’s for the best,” she sneered softly. “I do not believe you’d much enjoy watching this, although Yenna, I must say, is in rare form.”

With the wave of her hand, the vision ended. When Geralt turned back to look at the pool, all traces of Yennefer were gone. He didn’t know what hurt more: seeing her for that brief moment or watching her fade away. He shoved the pain aside.  _ Witchers don’t feel.  _

“Anything else?” Lytta laughed, eyeing him like a cat eyes an unsuspecting mouse.

“The swords,” Geralt uttered in a monotone voice. “Show me the damn swords.”

**After the Dragon Hunt**

The inn they had finally found was, even to Geralt’s standards, pretty damn depressing. He was surprised Yennefer didn’t seem to mind, however she, like him, was focused on other needs. The minute they closed the door of that room, she was in his arms. They ripped clothing off their bodies, their need for each other so intense that nothing else mattered. In the end, they didn’t even make it to the bed, Geralt lifting her and filling her against the door of their room. Yennefer gasped as he entered her, drawing in air as she whispered his name into his ear. He started to move and they both no longer cared about propriety, screaming in ecstasy at the sheer delight of being one again. 

It came quickly for them both, and ended as it always does, in stars and flashes, moans and cries. 

In sheer, unadulterated bliss.

*******

“I saw you, during our separation,” he said as he held her, running his hands up and down the expanse of her spine. 

“You did?” she said softly, her breath light against his chest. They lay on the floor of their room, content to simply hold one another, uninterested in letting go even for the moment it would take to stand up and walk to the bed.

“Mmhhmm.”

“But where? How? I would have known, surely, had we been near…” Yennefer had looked for him during those four years, never searching for him outright but always keeping her eyes open for the white-haired witcher. Certainly she could not have missed him. She would have felt him…

“Not like that, Yen,” he said with a smile. “Hydromancy.”

At this Yennefer sat up slightly, leaning her weight to one arm, her chest still bare. Geralt smiled at the view and reached up to touch her breast with his left hand, his fingers softly dancing along the lower swell. She felt cool and electrifying, as always, and he felt his body respond.

“Hydromancy?” she questioned as she allowed his touch. Emboldened, he began to palm her breasts, twisting the nipples lightly. “Who,” she moaned aloud, her eyes closing. Her voice sounded breathy. “Who do you...oohhhhh...who do know that practices hydromancy?”

“Does it matter?” he whispered as he moved his hands from her breasts to her navel, grabbing the feminine flair of her hips.

“I’m curious,” she reponsed and moved her leg to straddle him. 

He pulled her onto him and kissed her, running his hands down her sides and to her rear. She responded by grabbing his cock and slowly stroking it, her thumb paying special attention to the underside like she knew he craved. “Coral,” he whispered in her ear. “Lytta Neyd.”

Yennefer immediately stopped touching and kissing him and rolled away.

Geralt sighed. “Yen…”

‘That red-headed cow? That vile snake? I cannot stand the wretched woman.”

“It was three years ago, Yen, and she doesn’t matter a thing to me. If anything, I’d say she sufficiently hates me enough to where I’m surprised I haven’t dropped dead from some curse, or that my cock hasn’t shriveled up and fallen off.”

Yennefer chuckled at that. “She knows I’d kill her outright if she did either of those things.” 

He laughed. “Perhaps. But she did allow me to see you, if only for a moment.”

She leaned back into him. “Where?” she asked as he wrapped his arms around her once more. 

“I don’t know where you were, but you were beautiful. You were wearing this white dress, sheer enough in the sun so that I could see your curves. Your hair was down and your shoulders were bare and…”

“Geralt, darling, this doesn’t exactly help with the where.” She smiled as he rolled onto her, kissing her neck and nipping at her collarbone.

“I didn’t exactly care about the scenery, Yen, I wanted to see you. I think there were some vineyards or something around there. Anyway, a man came into the picture and I didn’t want to watch it anymore. I couldn’t see that. I couldn’t watch another man hold you in his arms.” He held her tighter.

“Vineyards.... Oh yes, the jeweler. Geralt, didn’t you see?” she giggled slightly.

“See what? Another man holding you? Kissing you? Of course I didn’t watch that Yennefer.” He kissed her neck and moved down, putting his mouth on her nipple and swirling his tongue around it. Yennefer moaned again.

“Darling no, didn't you see me slap him?”

Geralt stopped and looked up at her with that. “Excuse me?”

“That was that idiotic jeweler I was with for the shortest and most dull moments of that year. The fool thought he could grab me when I told him repeatably not to touch me. So I slapped him.” She smiled. “It was quite a good slap. Pity you missed it.”

Geralt was caught between some weird middle of relief and rage. “Where is he?” He muttered angrily. 

“Why, so you can avenge me three years later? Geralt, he means less than nothing to me. Honestly, I cannot even remember his name.” She pulled him to her as she reached to stroke his erection, heavy and full inside her palm. “He certainly isn’t you, Witcher.”

Geralt pulled her into a kiss and positioned himself at the apex of her thighs. As he sank into her he let out a sharp cry, unconcerned once again with the fellow patrons of the inn and what they could most definitely hear. “Mine,” he groaned.

Yennefer grabbed his face and kissed him fiercely. “Mine,” she said back to him as she arched her hips up to meet him.

When it was over, they were met with screams for peace-and-quiet, quite a common occurrence when they stayed together. “Who knows,” Yennefer laughed out loud. “Maybe someday someone will clap for us?”

Geralt laughed at that as well and scooped her in his arms. “I wouldn’t count on that, Yen.” 

**Author's Note:**

> But Geralt is of course wrong! They did have someone cheer for them in Thanedd. Have some faith, G-dude.
> 
> This is another one of my Moments Collection. Got a prompt? Write it below! Thank you so much for reading and as you know, kudos and comments feed the author and are so loved!


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